Our apartment is exactly one block away in both directions from two 4th Avenue funeral homes. It took me a while when I first moved to NYC to get used to having to walk through funerals/wakes while I was coming home from work, the store or walking the dog. I always just try to walk quickly, keep my head down and not let the dog dawdle. Tonight Jamie and I were walking with the dog to the grocery and had to walk past one of the funeral homes (which incidentally has a placard out front with the name of the funeral director, which is Doris V. Amen). Apparently we got there just as what I can only assume were friends of the deceased were trying to haul a loaded casket onto a gurney out on the sidewalk. Four years I've lived here and I've never actually seen the comings and goings of the bodies--the funeral homes are exceptionally discrete. This however was not the doing of the funeral home; these folks were in casual wake-style clothes and seemed to be cracking up. At one point we heard one of them say "I don't think it's (the casket) going to fall off, but it's definitely not stable."
I apparently froze in my tracks, at which point Jamie prodded me on. Our comments to each other:
Jamie: I can't believe your first instinct was to turn around and run away.
Me: It's bad luck just seeing that kind of thing.
Anyone remember what movie that's from?
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